Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Julian Apr 2020
Floating above the rifts of apperception I glaze over the gaudy faucets of imagined vector thrusts in hibernation by the lucubration of space-time materialized crystal in the somber beats of fetched farrago of choice slices in delicate hums of hemmed balance rantipole only in ethereal importance but otherwise supersolid above the sprauncy vagrancy of dilettantism. We shout a clarion virtuosity so that the conclamation of neovitalism conjures upon a spell of lapse and regress a motive for further crystallization of epidemiology into harmony with syndicated admonition sleek in design and parceled into renown by feats of completion rather than slugabed gregarious fountains of wasted ingenuity bleeding from the vacuum of an empty hearth in a hospitable dwelling otherwise cleared of imperfection. Right now, I levitate with transcendence with an approximated eidetic memory that is the surgical vibrancy of renewal rather than the chameleons of hidden talents buried by the walls of Jericho sounding tocsins of alarm that the anointed favor of choice destruction is only an encircled rapture of rhapsodies of confluence found in axiomatic truths ribbed with the futtocks of seaworthy but cauponate recidivism into the donnybrooks of apocryphal revelation preceding the whimsical fall of cascading permanence just as gravity so ordained it. We breathe the life of the ethereal numinous spirit of isangelous repute because we navigate the exquisite cobweb of reconciliation to surpass all understanding in peace what would be a miscegenated carcass of war otherwise apart from the incidental apartheid of the drones of causality ignoring the antecedent reality too much to register fathomed streaks of preventive endeavor because of the scars of a scrappy schlep of the rampicks of ecbolic servitude to moth-eaten star-crossed lovers of the mean menagerie of gutless succor renowned only in tepid rejections of harbingers bequeathed in succession but ignored because of the procession of “Billie Jean” politics.

   The citadel aflame with controversy buttresses carnality by witless contaminants of hidebound scaldabancos of ineffable destitution so craven in eisoptrophobia for their hypostasized indolent fatuousness of capitulation that they are but a minor punctuation in the largesse of centuries to favor audacity in candor over the prevarications of catastrophe to dented human pride against humane dictates of theodicy in fatalism that predestination experimented with its own vaulted verve to find permanent solutions engraved in the agrapha of time to solidify the redintegrated truth of God’s divine stewardship above the quisquilous deism of former regnant centuries of blench and blandishment. We revolt at the specter of rot only when the effluvia of disgust elevates the visceral reality above the utilitarianism of recycled prim nuisances of noisome lineage that yet balk because they are bereft of attention but not a vacant talent and therefore should the subsidies of man surpass the ignorance of appearances he will shrug of the demur of the scrimshank and sharpen his scrivello in the service of redemption found through cultivated prowess of gardens beneath where rivers flow above a cubic centurion of embattled visages of the heavens becoming the rampart for the vestigial clarity of Secret Masters to foresee the bypass that heals decadence and rebukes the formalism of puritan endeavor to sweat with exhaustive patience over the gossamer intertesselations of a ripe reality rather than a groveled fragmentary world shattered too much by exigent metanoia to mount the crenellated catchpole of vigilant enmity towards the stew of listlessness found in epigone and farce more than in organic fortunes. We flip the upheaval of society to squander our proportionate degrees of wealth on the necessity created by dire quandary which enamors by interrogations of pulchritude the verisimilitude of participle ivory dalliance of etched canvasses of simultagnosia for the librations of the liberated rings of betrothed liberation despite profound lurches of the mistetches of ignorance presiding dismally over the hulked disdain of glamborge rather than resselenque.

     The winter is a poor porcine glut of ciconine swelters because the prickly obtuse recoil of the delopes of caution find their permeable balance with a sort of photographic photosynthesis that braves the dearth of reprieve for the reprisal of nostalgic deeds found in the docimasy of riveted reflections because the preordination of God is the superlative champion of the witeless grandeval protectorate of infinite concepts guarded from the parvanimity even of the most strident minds squabbling over the braseros and battues of history as though those funereal stains of lachrymose regret outweigh the traditions of vaunted human progress because they are finicky about importunate pleas of subsidiary injustice rather than fulminations of the modern rebuttal to the disclaimers of an uneven history that shepherds the doubts of nihilism into ripe fruition at the expense of very expensive moral rot for the codlings of urbacity and mendaciloquence used to foment that tribalism of totemic justice. We see in Penuel the wrestling match of specters and heroic giants documented on the ageless pages and we notice the ironic twinges of struggle that kneaded the propriety of gentilian privilege that ultimately fostered an insurrection against chosen bravado among those that sear with zeal beyond the yordim afflictions of yobbery because the Jewish heart is stronger than any calamity even if it departs from the reverence of the colporteurs of the integrated syncretism of the attempted monolith that beseeches polyphiloprogenitive growth in mindset rather than in testy abeyance of forbearance because of known scrutinies into the tropology of wilted facts remanded by curious historicity that crumples without disdain when we memorialize the erasure of scepsis by modern standards of thaumaturgy.

    The minauderies of growth are a repositioned tacit allegiance to the untold fanfare and hearsay immunized against the broach of facetious levity to buoy discordant hearts above fumatoriums of relentless ignorance because coherent masterwork can be cobbled without such lapidary toil and toll on sincere affectations of wizened brevity. The seismic precautions for the forefathers of incidental convergences between expectancy and crystallized history are an ironic intortion of priorities because the heralds and tribunes matched the peerless foresight with the gerrymandered figments of apartheid between the imaginary and the real so that the delicate synchrony of events could unfurl a riveting carapace from the shells of protection even in amiable squalor for its impenitent attrition on the volleys of sensible rumor becoming fashioned in covert bedazzled errors in judgment leading to the triumph of the eventual civilization over the futtocks of the burial of the former trekleador of zenkidu belonging to provincial cadasters found so tucked in the hedges that discernment of frikmag would be an indelible scourge on the biognosy of the diagnosed endeavors that elapsed into remediated circumstances that brave the depths of deontological violation for the breadth of apportioned loaves and two swanky fish earning a place among the miracles of transcendent liberation from articles of decree imperious by sardonic disdain becoming nullified by the histrionics of a delicately staged orchestra that cements human achievement.

       We relish the frescades of a ruffled autumnal reminder of flourish above pothers of the screed of admonition swamped by nostalgic backtracks in the séance with ultimatum of design and the impregnated and carnal lusts of a world pitched in darkness with guarded lambent lights fomenting a perjury against tact for the deliverance of freedom in tacit agreement with owleries that every bonanza be tithed in their favor regardless of hibernation of spoilsports or their subsidiary remarks on indelible quills of invented manufactured realities we crave with desperation rather than cower from in requited nescience urging us to depart from affairs and stagnate the loyalty of fealty above the limber of utility mobilized above levities for solemn remarks and rejoinders. Promulgated above the robotic rubble of staffage haywire in wiredrawn contemplative resonance of tremulous subterfuge vestigial but immediate to the yardsticks of reprehensible malarkey, is the barnstorm for erratic dimples sauntered by the saunas of shelter above the chaos of ruined ginnels for the gimcracks of auxiliary duty to service, is the glorification of the sultry intimations of legions of remonstrance in guarded decorum about sunken atrocities lapsed in memorial to the incumbent brunt of sockdolagers of justice returning revenants from the bridewell of historical internment. The symphily of orchestras to cineaste symposiasts of surquedry in impudence beyond the brays of betrayal is the aborning mythos of regimented perceptions of a world that when magnified by minutiae appears starkly contrast to the gapped gubbertushed reality of the average patron of the arts to such an extreme gulf of receptive understanding that the qualia are dovetailed only in the swink of careful kisswonks to certify certitude itself when all the fragments coalesce into subjoined harmony to the substructures of inherent conscientiousness. The miracles at work that are vesicles and vessels for the swage of imprint above the loyalty of the imprinted tribunes of the fluminous is how hidden protrusions can emerge so victorious over popularized glazes on the pastures of a farmed culture itching for timmynoggies of innovation but only finding the etched remarks of pristine imagos of heroism dwindling in motivation to surpass the imaginative leaps accustomed to a newfangled laziness that bedazzles the guzzle of crowds but not the discrimination of the crowded morass of incompletion found in mosaics missing enigmatic philters of intoxicated love for the profound. So to be intermediary as a custodian for artistry we must cozen the wheedled imaginations not of the relic but the archaeologist that discovered the embedded prisms of attentive scrutiny for glinting sunshine inherent in troves of surpassed excellence beyond parochial sympatric blandishment of donnism rather than a resselenque that floats above demeanor to usher the cosseted age of treasure above the glib brocards and florews of past success.

      Immanent to the provisions of God as decreed from a syncretic reconnaissance of the pitiable gulfs that separate boundless divine love from the clavigerous potential for scrappy sympatric affiliation to **** through the barnstorms of internal comestions of conflated priorities we are ourselves prismatic in the indulgence of a tasty life sprinkled with zest rather than tempered with the vengeance of retorted animosity that we knead the pottery of ironclad resistance to a metallic conduit of pruned fulminations of unguided intuition so that the natural accord supersedes the goad of materialism for the sustenance of antiquity beyond its heyday for vital gains against the tauricide of panic and frenzy. The linchpin of all realistic attempts at the sympatric symphily of civilization is a guided remorse through the torment of affliction that sizzles without anteric barbs as it measures through engrenage how to pilot the vehicles of prosperity through the minefields of contingency that invisibly bequeath new hurdles and inestimable obstacles that collude surreptitiously to fulminate measured controversy against the backbites of restrained equipoise created by polities of the macadamized fabric of a welded smithy of a universe that with ubiquity proclaims above the senseless the harvest of conjugal repartee in sensible pride against militant bastions of incidental prejudice for a careen against the flyndresques of danger and the flyndrigs of glaikery alike for a humane spurt of enlightenment to tower peerlessly in supervision of entelechy created by esemplastic unity in apolaustic purpose. We cannot be puritans engaged in a pilgrimage to a palimpsest of priggishness because the daring elements of adventurism are necessary ingredients to catalyze the supply-chain of the innate gluttony of ego-seeking endless balance with a natural sustained biognosy that prizes biocentric harmony above bibliognost scepsis so that the enthused can flock with liberty divorced from libertinism. The ultimatum is a war between hedonism wed with donnism against eumoirety and self-restraint and this battle will be waged on the indolence of a future of cordslave tethers to interrogation of privy conceptualism hamshackled by the gradgrinds into the neat nexility of precise conformity that blacklists the samizdat because the genizah profoundly twists the already jumbled jengadangle and provides a junediggle of procession and ceremony rather than pomp without substantial grit embedded in the showmanship of a reality in need of a fourth-wall.

        It is ironic how we bewrayed our stewardship of the planet as a plenipotentiary sentience waged against the vesicles of instinct but more fundamental to this tattered but pregnant psalm is that the stronghold of our future is the tenacity of filial duty to enthrone the household with husbandry and restraint as an emolument to divine justice that sparkles opalescent in its own redacted notions of gravity imperfect in the taradiddles of science but refined by the eclat of the combustible syncopation of a reiterative trope of realism combined with surrealist caprice to henpeck affectionate violation above inviolable screeds of blood sport rather than conjugal affections afforded to the brood and the feast of the flocks that rein supreme over all things but exert inclement justice over the cattle and chattel of civilization itself. The minkumpf against the sacrilege of a prioritized kosher is to abhor the suffering rather than embrace the penitence of perceived but specious sacrifice which is an ornery thorn on the stained conscience of the yobbery of both the apikoros and the obedient because to attenuate all suffering even of instinctual beings we anneal our hearts to a glorified compassion that supersedes the relegated relics of pushful genuflection by succedaneum of sacrifice waged against the docile whangams of otiose theodicy. The filibusters against the regnant complexity of regalia that is a sprauncy poivrade with terpsichorean flairs to transmute the intimations of hibernated perfidy into finicky transmissions for the riometers that accord orbific merit in a lackluster time enchant the rollicking audience of this auditorium of the prevenance of the conquered universe bracing for the camorra of the insipid entreaty of defalcated casuistry—the prominent exchequer in hoodwinked political agitprop that forges ironclad allegiances to flimsy facades of the verisimilitude of dignity with recalcitrant but incondite bruits of venom militant against secular apostasy—that the fitful arrivistes that swim in dire dearth will be welcomed into the reconciliation of all time with a tempered lurid glint of revelation bounded by sunken albatross of hype unbounded with a peace insurmountable in prestige rewarded only with the highest reservations.


    On 3-1-2020 when I penned my philosophy—even at a slowpoke margin of crafty precision above rapid empirical faucets of folly—I was entirely selfsame with the autotelic engravings of the smoldering aboriginal talents within that many can swing through by tenacity for enormous plaudit but a flagrant majority will apprehend with flippant scollardical tenets of rebuke and remain honest in their appraisal only in meek resignation of parvanimity.
Consider the postulates of rarefaction whittled into a vehement zeal against the prostitution of our species to the anteric cycles of residual molds of dingy spectacle mired by the tyrannical towers of supercilious squirms of revamped novelty rather than enhanced by the freebooters of dirigisme that borrow from time the behest of philandered flairs divorced from the cadges of secular instinct and enthroned by the qualms of engineered virtuosity that is stark, barren but peerless in its outstretched clamor for luxuriant sprees against the silentium of grandeval asylum incurred by the flippant filigrees of recalcitrant modernism endangered by the irredentism of the future upon the whimsy of the present-minded momentary glare of rapture.  This impending architecture of nimble but subservient endeavor is a pinprick rejoinder against the wernaggles of prepossessed fountains of configured animosity against the stapled heed of a modality of trayned invictive invectives against the plodding course of fustilugianation that swerves in apathy of autopilot junediggle to emanate the surrender of epigone to the raktendure of the synaesthesis of the attuned perception of all superimposed minutiae delegated by calculated design into a synclastic focus on veiled caprice that is vaulted above the choppy and sketchy verdure of remiss perception to stellar continuities rather than mundane knickpoints of stodged blurs that magnify syncretic qualia into baseline congruity rather than staid torpefied resignation of the visage of thunder without the pangs of the widely vituperated lightning that bequeaths all certain notions but flouts the tortious saboteurs of the prim trucage of brittle fundamentalism.

     As the flawed paragon of a picaresque youth punctuated by vibrant plumage of self-wrought tropophilous usucaption of remote groomed frontiers of desolate luxury but buoyant morale into the ballasts of a nimble usufruct that hikkles yet still against still-framed thilloire--fatuous in endearment only to the polity of the waterdrip of craven but gravid disingenuous flickers of lambent cloaks of perfidy—that earned its birthright by meditative fruition rather than prodigal tallespin of indolent frapplanks of a vicarious personage rather than an autotelic haecceity showcases the folly of heterodyne inclinations meeting an impasse of accidental dislodgement. The interregnum between the spurts and sprees of luxuriance is a staid pause between continuities of afforded parlance becoming stapled demographic solidarity affixed to a strident gallop of effortful pushes against the tenacity of the slumberous wicked hibernation of vetust magpiety without hieratical internment because youthful industry beats hackneyed bludgeons of wiseacres of a stilted manufacture of steamy nostalgia for lickerish moments that dignify but undermine moral virtues but splash anointed and sometimes disjointed favor upon the congeners to a rabid escapade of a heedless love frowning on the girdles of the prim balderdash of heralded jolts dim on levity and puffed with elusive contextualized control of libidinous serrated defilement because the crotaline **** outmantles the sweedled limber of exploitable folly. The cosseted reality of wheedled gourmands of continuous perception rather than the Gaussian blur of the protean invention of stitches in time that obscure rather than magnify the supernal levity inherent to most artistry is a linchpin of lenient gravitas that levies the lavaderos of ripe perception into annealment.
Excuse the bravado of the gait of winnowed forks in a bronteum for heralds of megaloscopy fastened to the macroscian reality of indelible filigrees of countermanded controversy becoming its best behest in the sempiternal flowering of burgeoned demonstration rather than illustrious overhang of drab slabs of manufacture rather than organism that should be interposed between the constellated concepts of both apperception and the aggrieved counselors to obtuse obsessions that are an improper tutelary for a designated reprisal of the once profane now immediately gratified by ramshackle tenets of a guarded sublimation of the tenets of post-modernism into a sustained force of the internalized tabernacle of haecceity shepherded into exuberance by the manumission of spirit from the ******* of purblind scalds of defamation that incurs the penalty of flippant privation. The refuge the Lord provides is not contingent upon the vagaries of deliberation nor the calculus of oversight but the remontant amaranthine glower of a listed deed becoming an eternal reminder that a dismantled and disjointed world fathoming only remorse rather than the trudge of gentility against the headwinds of brunt asperity will always flout the successor rather than atone for the failure of the imponent condition that constellates around rudimentary drivel grubbing the momentary out of avarice for allotted merchandise rather than glommed magnets to amoeba sentiments for the kisswonk of ulterior motive beyond dungeons of desperation that lurk ghoulishly with spectral frights at the disfigurement of morale created by errors askew rather than a contagion of righteous valor.

   Ask the heedful servant if the captaincy of reneged commitment owes homage to dutiful instruction or whether it is a balking corpse of necrosis accorded to the omphalism of brutish carnal repose in times of sedentary silt siphoned in spelunked rijuice for preordination is a predominant specter for a world scared scurrilous and skittish in a diatribe against the very notion of tribal screeds embedded in the sedimentary heft of traditionalism above the pother of vacillation commended to the apikoros but counterfeit fiat system of a ruddy governance without a supreme magistrate. Now lets venture into the territory of visagists as we envision the swanky subversion of impoverished and nebbich visions of oligochrome that fixates on belabored but dead notions of rigid propriety and levitate above those concerns with a querulous transcendence that never wernaggles about the profaned irrelevance of burlesque tropes of sidereal friction but instead memorializes the thermolysis of permeable endeavor above staid countenances of imposture that lurk in the shadowy penumbra of the connivance of persona above the archetype of the tutelary guardian spirit that through windlass and sometimes deliberation affixes nobility to even the pedestrian in order to assize its proper proportions to granular ironies expounded into megalography transformative by the very rivets of its supersensible existence and cohabitation with histrinkage among human taboos.

   The handiwork of a permeable race prone to exacerbated proclamations of prerogatives bulldozed by the rapid percolation of insoluble quandaries to the gripes of the feast of foofaraw sometimes shelters our otherwise regnant concern about the plenipotentiary God that observes all latent affairs without the paramours that conflate vivid carnality with appeased luxury and superimposes a crafty system of seismic shifts in rantipole dances with numinous flux rather than dissipated militant suppression of the fracklings of dissolute pollution which swirk in their dastardly desperado endeavors to corral the entire monoliths that guard each province into a winnowed rumble of rubble by tarnish of Tyre rather than by the upstart rejoinders of Canaan. Every creature which has the capacity to perceive language is afforded benedictions by the overhailing force of the hypaethral heights of superlative ingenuity founded in the bolted speculation of the endearment of all to tropological seesaws embattled against the hearsay of nyejays that contaminates the telmatology of the ecosystem of revivalism rather than buries the leaden debts of the disjointed revenants of past prominence into recycled irrelevance for posterity rather than for anything but a machination of a clockwork apple rigged for a rotten worm to swindle the sweet delicate tempests of unforeseen disaster to perjuries against financial solidarity.

The spinsters of sardonic drollery underscore the imminence of an incondite cutthroat collapse blackguarded by the hucksters of incontinence grubbing every fetched noisome notion and congealing a bonnyclabber of desiccated mildew that proves vestigial when the victors of time earn their joyous serenade to the pinnacle of the totem of jaundice slits in wavy endeavors for the participles of sejungible syntax of the ephorized furor to outlast the draksteng of droned dereliction manned by half-baked spies of ulterior recitals for imprinted vicissitude in supremacy in synquest for frizzlounges rather than the pedestrian circulatory system of careworn polity. We vaporize the petty hatred of sympatric regelation that neuters the virulence of motivated impediments to the draconian surge of asperity that sinks temporal haplessness as a regaled blasphemy that crowns only the ringed betrothal to spumid serrated halts in slick superstition that is a buggery to the idea of insectivores devouring the erratic chantage of germane germs that pauperize rather than even blind the deafened to be a crutch to vehicular homicide. Melismatic sennet is a dirigible of immense herculean sinew without the traces of vestibulary retches of kisswonked grisly tepid intimidations of eccedentesiasts by the radioglare of wizened corrugations in thanatism that exhort the avatars of narquiddity over the natural departure of revenant souls back to their temporary hostility to crass lifeless decarnate immediacy that slinks with foibles magnified by vertiginous heights of scollardical reputes rigged by the rijuice of the plackiques of meaningless spoils for swashbuckler bonanza borrowed from serrated vengeance exacted in prominence to provide false avenues of extenuation to malefaction that is confidant to the panopticon of exemplary dimples meager in the largesse of the composite realism of a sizable imprint on megalography that outlasts impertinent excuses for dangerous trout swimming against the mobilized selachostomous frizz of sharks gathering to avenge disclosure with insolence and gravid atrocity of incisive surgical evisceration of attempted depositions that falter by innumerable facets of countenance that belie ultimate realism and the perdurable construction of a sturdy hive of bibliognost revelry.

     Even with the blaring sennet of majesty inundating my piecemeal perception with the marstions of flarium that is an efficacy in a flaccid world of otiose pretenses limpid only in folly but contraplex in ironic skewbald skerries of grubbed destination that is the terminus of karezza despite the maledictions of vehement guarded betrayals that conjure up lurid noisome virility against the gamines and gallywows that populate interstellar fictions of virtu rather than mundane pragmatica that astound with the resselenque of contaminated skeumorphs of latent fracture belonging to a skeletonized ossified reification of farce above historicity in seemly seamless countenance with overwrought princely stature deserving integrity to ripples through sparkling opalescence. The vapid insularity of the self-contained mythos of appeased groundlings is based on the rhizic and rhizogenic fracklings destitute in predicative flares to swelter above stratospheres of the illimitable into the dwelling of the highest serenity inherent to the pacification of truth to neglect its egregious errors of mistetches of a ripened pachyderm of bravery in times of austerity and now a reclaimed notion of sempiternal charades swimming above the punitive draksteng of dranger that is enlarged by acclimated attempts at foiled raltention hikkling against its own superior forces of galvanized preterition to elide over screwball insanity of derangement in this virtual paradise of inhabited souls belonging to former times congregating on the pasture of the evanescence of now for all eternity having the optative condition of incarnation above the ferules of the stagnant brevity of oversight in heavenly realms by postulate but not confirmed by regal logic.

     The troponder of the flickered lambent niceties of polity is a countenance that piggybacks on simpered jostles of negligent engrenage to appease sworn enmities among beatific havens for certitude swarmed by the fisticuffs of darbied bridewells of desiccated drainage traversing the distant disdain for the gravel of cemented slits of stilted pragmatica that is a gavel of atrocious estoppel mediated by heroic heresiarchs against pitiable betrayal for forceful remedies in acclimated servitude to the groans and groaks of a life of remorse and dearth rather than the glut of luxuriance in forbearance to its own intorted mirrored ironies that etch infinity with every scrawled rejoinder to austere ploys of checkered rumbles of threat and exigency posed by the clairvoyant hypocrites who benefit greatly by the design of the omphalism above the frays and brays of corporate dogmatism slowly outmoded by vibrant plumages of heteronormative originality beyond petty chantage. A hesitation overcomes the bluster of bravado as the restive earnest concerns of tribulation beset the minauderies of divine affection to reaffirm the teachings of the Gospel so that future generations genuflect beneath the altar of the ultimate stroke of sociogenesis and the blood ransom of suffering that promoted the human latitude and liberty against incarcerated throngs of virtue over caesaraproprism accorded to genuflection beneath denarii rather than absolution by tether to the eternal vine of sensation of the supersensible entelechy of all valiant insurrections against defective polities and renewed policies.

     We thus seek a transdimensional bridge between the morphean virtu of rudimentary alchemy of propitiation divulged by leverage and the teeming rambunctiousness of fiduciary tribes to the ultimate duty of man to consummate the future of eternity even in slowpoke mannerisms that sidle through rigors of entelechy and assize the masterwork of tutelage above the circumforaneous entrenchment of glut above the mastery of the subtle subaudition that beleaguers an adept conflagration of harnessed human ignorance staid in the incarceration of exotic virtues of freewheeling sapience never vulnerary to hospitable concerns that entrenches the verisimilitude of a refracted justice to reign over the stultification of a primitivism inherent to man and not man alone.
Used some neologisms
Emanuel Martinez Mar 2013
Wake Up Wretched World,

I assert my Indigenous heritage
I self identify
With the ancestors of my continent

Identity afraid to articulate
Culture, unknowingly belonging to me
Cycle of shame now shattered

Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire
europeans plundering my mother Latin America
In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment
Has been engineered through the mestizaje
Of my Indigenous forefathers

How could I not forget my lineage
When the historical legacy of modernization
Has been to massacre the consciousness
Of where my people really come from

Erasing indigenous pride
Making Paisano and Indio
Synonymous with poverty and alienation
Insulting the humbleness
State of hunger you've left us in

Original lineage within me disturbed
So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment
Not white, not indigenous?

Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced
Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns
Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics
Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them
Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit

Constantly driving them off productive land
Because they choose to assert their identity
Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing
Waiting for them to make barren lands productive
So you can take those lands too

Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times
This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America
21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
March 14, 2013
Andrew Fieler Apr 2014
What if there was no light,
No inclination to fight,
Mountains, all feasible to climb;
To be in anyplace, and anytime.

What if love was a verb,
No pitfalls, no feelings to curb,
True loves lost in abyss,
No one to meet nor miss.

What if death was avoidable,
and people weren't exploitable,
Earth as Eden;
No sin, no wrong, even.

What if sadness was eliminated,
No choice debated,
Just action, speaking before thinking,
Leaving all people sinking.

For death is still a shadow,
The bite-mark is in the apple.
Love is fate,
ships of sadness and pain:
Humanity as the first mate.

Always surrounded with quandary and question...
But one thing yet to mention:
Eliminate all questions of "what if" in mind,
Then there shall be answers to find.
vamsi sai mohan Oct 2014
I want to live in a protoplasmic land:
Where only earth's natural resources are availed...
but not any exploitable extraction from nature.
where the cacophonies of friction are unheard..
Where the toxic air doesn't seem to arouse from the rooms of renaissance,
Where the sky synergizes with the nature,
Where the oeuvre of the planet remains pristine,
Where the trees vacillate with the harmony of winds.
Where there exists no manufactured light....
But only the piercing rays of self-igniting sun to synthesize the earth with seemingly eonian brightness...
And on nocturnals,star and moon drives me,if moon masquerades,i.e.,
When the commixture of cirrocumulus clouds form an impenetrable layers of watery clouds,
let the thundering light texture me while its clustering clouds embracing me with its rapturous rain,
Let the nature do its own karma,
I am not here to meddle in nature's subtle poise,
but to infuse into it......
O'shiva pave me the unobscure and quintessential way for me to dissolve in to you,
Let me drop my essential earth and dissolve my sumptuous and non-matter soul in to everlasting you....
Let me hush in to those singular days and solitary sounds....
Another all-nighter
from Phoenix to L.A.,
delivering paper to the
Times. I'm suddenly
exhausted, now that
the rolls have all been
unloaded and stacked
so high. I gaze up at
an entire forest of
trees reduced to their
exploitable essence.

No messy branches
no troublesome roots
no bark to shed
just nice clean paper
carefully weighed,
labeled, rolled up
tight and wrapped
in heavy cardboard
to keep the dirt out,
looming solid, silent
in the Times' dim warehouse.

No birds here
except for one
lonesome pigeon
who's walking around
hunting for crumbs.
I don't belong here either.
I'll be riding
my steel elephant
back to the corral.
I'll bed down tonight
where the cows all
hang out,
dead, skinned, frozen
inside boxes on wheels,
but that's
another story.
A slice of life from my work as a long-haul trucker--
Copyright 2010 by Michael S. Simpson. All rights reserved.
I sit in this room, day after day, rotting and rotting and rotting away.
The sun that I see is snuffed by smog,
Transferred to LCDs in parks and streets,
Reminding the coughing passers-by
Of what it looks like to have a blue sky.
And I... I don't want to work a 9-5.
I don't want anyone to.
I don't want to participate in a cancerous system
That consumes continents of life just to churn out some ******* paper and oil.
It sounds apathetic, but it isn't.
I don't pity myself in the slightest:
I pity having to exist in this ****** up world
Where you're nothing more than an exploitable resource,
And where you are among the billions of others that will never be remembered,
Lost in the vast swathes of "disposable" humanity
That live and die in a rigged system
Built for and by those on top.

I just want to get away.
I don't want to be a part of this place.
I don't want to see another school get shot up.
I don't want to read another sensational headline.
I don't want to hear about a "just" war.
I don't want to breathe the toxic air.
I don't want to be see another skyline built by slaves.

I just want to be away.
Every second of every day I feel a desire to get away.
An incessant wanderlust for some place else,
Somewhere that isn't dark, cold, and bland,
Somewhere that wasn't built by poor immigrants.
Somewhere that wouldn't pave a forest to build a ******* parking lot.
Somewhere that isn't here.
I am not a fan of my darkness.
I don't want to wake up in a life
Where I consider not existing
A reasonable option.

I can't handle the daily grind,
The salaries and insurance bills,
And all these things I read
On how ****** the world is.

I just want to create things --
I don't want to cause harm,
But I am a source of profit:
Exploitable and disposable.

Suicide is not what I want, though.
I don't want to do that to those that care.
I just want to escape from this place,
This entire ******* civilization.
I can't stand it...

I don't even want to write about it;
I've done it enough.
I'm just so tired of this world,
Of profit margins and bottom lines.
I want to build a cabin in the woods,
Somewhere,
And live off the land --
To forge my own existence.

But that is abandoning humanity:
I feel an obligation to fight for the future,
Like I should give my life for what is right,
For a more empathetic world,
A world of understanding --
Something utterly fleeting,
And probably impossible.
But the fight must be mounted.
Someone must stand.

This world they have built will not last:
Infinite consumption is a hoax,
A lie, a grand delusion.
It will fall, whether we fight it or not.
The real fight is to ensure
That the world that rises
After this one collapses
Is built for the good of all mankind,
And not just the elite classes.

Man has been ruled by greed for too long.
We have been abused and sent to die
In pointless wars and toxic mines.
They preserve themselves:
Where a yacht is pocket change,
While half the world is starving.
They're a parasite that won't quite die:
A tick that keeps finding a crease in the skin
To sink its filthy face in.

We are a bag of blood,
Running dry,
Infested with ticks,
Swollen beyond imagining.

This is not a world worth preserving -
It is a rigged game,
It is a disgrace.
We should be embarrassed
That for all of our creativity,
Our intelligence and passion,
Our insight and foresight,
We allowed this to happen;
This global cataclysm.
It's so ******* depressing.
It's why I can't stand waking up
Some times.

I just hope that, maybe, one day
I will be able to wake up
In a world that has learned from the errors
Of this one.
I really hope it happens.
I really hope I get to see it.
Oh, how magnificent it might be.
H R H Mar 2018
A woman is not an hourglass figure of weakness,
Nor is a man an upside down triangle of strength.

A man is more than just a handsome face or exploitable assets,
And a woman is no lesser by her second man or tenth.
Quickie
Norbert Tasev Mar 2020
Today, it is crippled with all its nerve strands, and the Man as the official heir to the throne of the evolutionary chain is weaving into itself; Who can still be alive and the victim in the grinding mill wheels of weekdays? With his scary, huge injection needles, he wounds every day like a wounded Sun - punching my face for a long time or tram in a bar-leaning shop. ***** stings, teasing spits and howling blood

stools drowned in themselves as addicted to themselves as the ultimate hopeless: expelled from their homes! But the Hearts, the proudly lion-drawn Hearts, the clean, unclean, spotless consciences: Cared for and well-kept spiritual gardens, still flutter. - Century is powerful, indomitable

crocodile-willed wake-up Jancies, diva-matrons, fleshy cups - they are leaning over flesh pots for fat snacks. On the ground, the main editors dig traps, hard-pressed piles -

there is nowhere to flee the stoic masses of despised manuscripts - There could only be at last a sounding, cymbalized human word, Chairs and sermons without preaching on Goodness, Truth, Morals, that we are one-hearted in our humanity, and we are no longer strangers!

Those who help with self-will, and with unbridled compassion, hold upon us the easy mercy of their alms. Has the development of the world begun with modern means of mass communication? Are the long-awaited fortune-tellers of immortal castles in theaters, theaters - thunderstorms - still lit?

- That's how they live downstairs: The one who swallows a lot of food is fine and spends on himself. Anyone who helps will be deliberately oblivious - the anti-horror of cultural ignorance infects everyone! "Now the world is pitifully petty and hateful." Luck dancing on the hands of pecking-down little kings, luck and honor or humanity may no longer have a shelter here - because a exploitable, grabbing marionette puppet in the delicate hands of the Man's Boys is stuck in the air of job interviews:

The gorillas gnawing at them, like the Adonis on the mallard kittens, giggled, "Mobile phone! Buy artificial nails! " - That's left! "No longer need immortal confessions on the dragon pillars of wounded-hearted sunsets, nor any universe-lovers." - no brainwashing stupid - Morals! The power of human hearts, understanding on earth, Peace in your hearts! Between the Aggastyan Mountains I stretch my bow like a bow and whisper my voice!
Anvillan May 2020
Fireflies in the black night sky, the
eyes of a child wonder at the light show.
Eyes of wonder, collectors of opportunity.
Where did those eyes of wonder go?
Where did I lose that ability to
see opportunity before it is gone?
Eyes of a child see even in the dark.
Where are those eyes that could watch
opportunity unroll like film on a screen,
clear, imaginable, reachable and exploitable.
Why has daylight destroyed the blessings of
blackness. Why have the eyes of a child
become the the eyes of a spectator, an
observer, detached from opportunity,
helpless to connect. Why has daylight
destroyed the wonder of fireflies in
the night sky? Why has the ability to see clearly
destroyed the ability to see in the darkness?
Darkness defines us, daylight is
just an illusion for the senses.
Changing perceptions
Joshua Garner Sep 2017
The oceans paint brush has shaped our shores
With the moons guiding hand to help it draw

As the wind moulds the land with a sculptures skill
We as man only hinder in the way of the elements will

We are the eyes of the universe
The essence of time
We stand as the pupils of life
Our presence is divine

Exploitable by the wrong kinds
Explorable with the right minds

Slow down your mind
And start to begin
Begin to realise
The only way out is in

This surface
The shore of the cosmic ocean
What beauty in our hands
But our land needs devotion
Norbert Tasev Nov 2020
The pain was long, vicious in me! Wounded crater-deeply lurking burning stigma-wound mule still whimpering child whimpering daily: Howling the wild, ruthless “Afraid” The eternal children's shoes were worn by the mature adult s The ringing of promises guaranteed me -went years of echoing joy!
 
This galad now voluntarily closed his executioner-prison in his prison cage and deliberately forgot as a pathetic hiding place! It is an old-fashioned admiration for me to remain a romantic Knight and not have to face the trendy posh and counting goosebumps of this devalued, lousy Age! Even as an emigrated addict to loneliness, I will not be a exploitable grinning tool of tangled salvation even then!
 
I am still sleeping frozen in me, the fluttering stench of flutter dripping under the ashes of *****, which suffocates itself daily and does not allow me to move on! - It took me a long time to endure Humility when “some” used my life as a doormat with cheeky-seventies and forced me into a deliberate self-chasing cat-mouse duel! Because I could never want to play voluntarily; captivated by the drift of Fate directed to as yet unknown shores! The shadows of this vile-counting Age did not overwhelm me as an accepting acceptance: I could not have babysit my child yet! "Maybe it's all too late to try?!"
 
One day, perhaps, even a light caught will voluntarily bang for admission - let him welcome me into my heart…
Norbert Tasev Sep 2021
An alarming and curious era of restless surprises is coming! Cultured Alpha males, pampered, solarium bomb-goddesses suffer from their self-indulgent exhibitionism and are thus already depressed and determined on the meaningless treadmill of the same existence! “Stretching, embarrassing loneliness came to us uninvited, like the exiled Stranger: human maturity could hardly tame jerks in a killer-phlegm manner!
 
A cultured minority was preparing for a serious speech to surprise itself: slowed down, deliberate reflections can no longer be trusted! The exploitable essence of conscious career building has kneaded a new mask from grimacing grimaces on the faces of chirping kittens! Instead of joining forces to finally get rid of the greedy longing - indifference — they let themselves be bribed to sell them out for a desire for a better life! Comfortable holding could rarely attack in indefinite states! Even the words of beauty are already circulating! and even heart-pounding lies to each other! They couldn't reach the wounded and delayed moment!
 
A dripping rain sparkles the offended eye as he looks into the memories of the transient! Many remain superficial on the surface with willful intent! In their tiny, tingling optic nerve, they would not be able to find the Essence and feel it with will! Chills in hibernation are also self-love and an exaggerated, deformed body image cult, which is preferred by nowadays! - You can already know from human eyes: they are cheating and they are cheating! - Our hopes are also reduced to lovely butterflies! It seems, in every matter of consideration, hyena-smiles rooted in the world, a phlegm-hatred, a killer-interest thought
Norbert Tasev Aug 2021
In my eyes, childish fears wander in alarm; my rustling petty faith in my late manhood makes me cry! Terrible resentment is spreading in the trenches of my gray, bleeding soul! Substantial intent is starting to gather! As a prisoner, I am forced to stare around grid days! As a sick chest, I shudder around myself! I feel an unmoved resignation in missed opportunities that don’t support - but haunt me!
 
My expectations are already wasting time! My selfish decay is also sharpened by needle-sharp teeth, it hurts more and more, it chews and chews! - A despair terrifying in my beating heart like a series of new tachycardia landslides: destructive, loneliness of consciousness seeps through the cracks of annual rings! On cold nights, mold-and-white wax puppets, like prostitutes, exploitable indifferent people stutter on each other! - Fates, limited by their destiny, calmed down, battered by tragedies, are Being walking towards the unknown!
 
Between my crouching contemplations, there is an eternal, mischievous piece of moment: while the fierce law of Executioner times stays with me! Maybe even someone can wait for me to continue! The everyday robot continues to run within the wrinkled boundaries of Being! The completed imperfection also has a separate law! The distant insecure always fills itself with a semi-obscurity: that’s why it can happen that I always come back to myself, I turn back!
 
The Avar-rotten smell of fermentation ventilates me; the plundered tears of my face are trickled and torn by a blade-edged wind! Every minute I start to realize my stubborn guilt, and between my doubts, the remnants of faith are becoming more and more weak!
olivia Apr 2020
Because that’s all I will ever be to you, an afterthought,
a passing memory perpetually in retrospection.
Because you see no purpose for my humor,
for my interests, for my happiness.
Because you have no patience for my candor,
for my strength, for my opinions.
Because you view challenge as hostile threat.
Because you know not of the damage you cause.
Because to know is to care, and you can only pretend to.
Because your volatility is not towards me, but the world.
Because my unwavering affection cheapens my appeal.
Because my unconditional admiration translates as an exploitable blind spot.
Because your actions will always reveal what I yearn to ignore,
in exchange for your touch.
Because you will never,
have never,
can never,
feel the same way.

How do I know you so well, and yet to you I stay a stranger

Why are you one who I cannot beguile, the only one to make me feel less than enchanting?
Why does this haunt me, motivate me, petrify and puzzle me?
Why will you never see my intrinsic value?
Why do I keep waiting for you to?
Why are your gemstone complements, rarer than diamonds, never more than skin deep?
Why am I always and only an option when you are bored?
Why do I eagerly accept this role as meaningful?
Why are your patterns so easy to predict, and yet impossible to accept?
Why do you say such hollow words that sound so heavy?
Why do I ignore the cyclical misery of a pretty lie?


-Because I Already Know Why
Norbert Tasev Jun 2020
Even an island where Time has stopped, and your eloquent gaze or even a scalpel penetrates my kidney. Your mischievous smile plays in the red glow of your face and hesitates with me! In my vulnerable heart, the refined strands of the years have struck an aggressive homestead, and only your delicate, nurturing hand can heal it! I would put my haunted head in your arms: Can the desires of human evildoers ever be fulfilled on a daily basis?

How could our two heartbeats be connected on secret entrapped biological pathways, say? And can’t the half-nailed, uplifting will hide nothing more than the fact that we both became cowards at the decisive moment?


I knew the nice little flirting ended sooner than we had previously thought. Our abandoned, hesitant confession ended sooner than a sudden, hurried breath, before the sure drowning! Did you really think so? You wanted this? Please answer! No coercion! Why did the immortality felt at all times seem annoyingly ending?

We were as cruel and submissive to each other's selfless and foolish noble emotions as two ruthless despots who alone considered the Question: "Do you still love me?" Or could I just have been a disposable, cheap item of use while bouncing back and forth as a palace clamp for you ?!

I know it’s very annoying, annoying, but calm down for a single minute! You would torment the exploitable moment to the point of uncertainty - now watch in silence: Listen to the beats of your heart and just listen to them - this is the hardest and most painful! "Envy and jealousy as a mysterious trustworthy can never lead because of a bad omen!" To the voices of my compliments somewhere in the distance, secretly now you are still trembling, answering!

— The End —